


The Birth of Suri

by forgotheparable, PickleandtheQueen



Series: The Family Circle [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alien Biology, F/M, Family, Giving Birth, child birth, labor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:33:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3625017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgotheparable/pseuds/forgotheparable, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PickleandtheQueen/pseuds/PickleandtheQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piccolo and Chichi are happily married. Piccolo, because of his awesome alien anatomy and physiology, is pregnant with his first child... How does he handle going into labor?<br/>Takes place after "Making Babies" but there is no need to read the smut should you not wish to do so. This story will make sense without it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Birth of Suri

**Author's Note:**

> Forgotheparable and I wrote this originally as a role play. Since I use Suri quite often in stories, they graciously gave me permission to post on fanfiction.net. Since I'm slowly working on synchronizing my FFN and AO3 accounts, I'm posting it here as well.  
> Forgotheparable wrote Chichi and Gohan and I was Piccolo...we sort of shared Goten if I remember correctly.  
> *I did make minute stylistic changes for posting* 
> 
> Suri is a namekian whose DNA has taken in human genes for the purpose of genetic diversity. And because these little nerds (Piccolo and Chichi) wanted a baby that was both of theirs. 
> 
> The only warning I can think of is "Graphic Depiction of Alien Child Birth" and it goes into detail. It's a major plot point. Anyhoo...enjoy.

It had been weeks since he had been comfortable, able to move with the grace and fluidity that best suited him. Piccolo, already grouchy by nature, was dangerously close to snapping. His chest was tight, his ribs - or rather, his sternum - had bulged out, making an odd, noticeable bump in his chest that constantly pained him. Dende had assured him that it was normal, especially this late into his pregnancy. Piccolo was eager for his egg to be laid for several reasons, and, to his discomfort, the first of these was an end to this constant state of restless, of dull aching.

He could not meditate, sleep, eat, drink, talk, or even _breathe_ comfortably. He craved physical contact but grew hostile if it lasted beyond his unknown boundaries. It was not fair to his family, especially poor little Goten, who did not understand that Daddy just was not feeling well...

Today was especially bad. He had woken up hours before his normal rousing, the perpetual ache sharper than usual. Piccolo had gone about his daily routines as best he could, trying not to display his increased level of pain. The father-to-be winced as a wave of discomfort, from his lungs to his gums, rolled through his system, stopping all function for an agonizing moment. It subsided. Piccolo glanced around, ensuring that he was alone. The kitchen was devoid of occupants besides himself; Gohan was at his girlfriend's, and Chichi could be heard outside singing in the garden with Goten. He sighed, the noise quickly turning into a gasp of pain as another wave of tightening muscles rippled through him. His throat felt funny, open... opening...Piccolo's eyes widened as he realized what those sensations were.

_Contractions._

He was having contractions. He took a stumbling step back, gripping onto the countertop to ground him in reality - it failed. His mind went blank. He was having his baby. Right then and there. Piccolo clutched at his chest, another wave - stronger and longer this time - positively ripped through his chest. Releasing the counter, Piccolo staggered towards the door leading out front of the house. Away. _Away_. He had to get away....  Long fingers fumbled on the knob. He nearly tripped exiting the house. With no destination nor rational thought in his head, Piccolo took off, his panic lending him speed and stealth...

~*~

Basket in arms, Chichi swept back into the small house. She had spent the last week preparing for the birth of their child - consulting with Bulma and Dende to ensure Piccolo would have everything he required, washing the starch from the baby clothes, and in general trying to make her aggravated husband as comfortable as possible. It was far from easy, but experience had leant Chichi some much needed patience; and thus far she had been nothing but supportive to the namekian. However, having an idea of the pain and discomfort he would be undergoing also resulted in her being extremely protective - not even Vegeta had dared trespass her boundaries.

She sighed, setting the wicker upon the kitchen worktop; pulling a tiny, lilac onesie into view. A smile quirked at her lips. It would all be over soon, and they would have a child… A child of their very own....

Speaking of their child, where was its father?

One of the downfalls of Piccolo's pregnancy was that Chichi had not been allowing him very far from view - which did not suit the solitary male, at all. It had resulted in a good few arguments, with Chichi threatening to kill him by the time this was done; and Piccolo asking in his sardonic manner that she might as well have done it there and then.

She shook the memory from her head, and proceeded to look for him. Bathroom, bedroom, living room and then garden - _nowhere_. Not even a trace. The little woman growled quietly, if he had snuck off without so much as mentioning it - _in his condition_!

Taking out her cellphone, she proceeded to call Gohan.

"Sweetie, I need you to scout around for Piccolo - no, I can't find him. And when you do, bring him back here. I don't care what he's doing, just do it." She chewed at her lower lip, but her voice remained level.

~*~

Gohan sighed, pocketing his cell before kissing Videl on the cheek.

"Sorry babe, duty calls." Placing the game console controller to the side, he quickly slid out the house and made for the skies.

~*~

The crashing of the waterfall did nothing to soothe his nerves, nothing to ease his pain. Pacing back and forth, Piccolo tried to swear as his entire chest seemed to crush inwards, the movement traveling up his chest in a constricting wave.

The lump that was his egg shifted. A moan cut through him and he dropped to his knees. His mouth was filled with something akin to the fluids he produced during sex, passionate kissing. He coughed painfully and a large amount of the stuff poured past his lips, coating his face and the ground in front of him. Piccolo opened his mouth wider as another contraction tore through his body. It was getting difficult to breathe. The solid mass of his egg was moving; from his chest it had moved up to his neck, now sitting a quarter of the way up the canal. He wheezed, closing his eyes and trying to moan but being unable to produce more than a whimper. Had he been capable of rational thought at the moment, he would have cursed himself for fleeing from home as he had. Piccolo leaned on shaking arms, sweat dripping down his face and neck, coating his body and giving him an odd shimmer. The contractions were coming faster now, and his body was adding in a hiccup-like response at the end of each one.

They seemed to be doing nothing.

Piccolo gasped for breath, quickly realizing that his egg had ceased to move. It was stuck, and cutting off his air supply. Within seconds of this discovery, Piccolo realized how dizzy he had grown. His arms gave out on him, and he found himself on his side, gasping desperately for air. His entire body convulsed, shaking.

A terrifying thought occurred to him then.

If he were unable to free his egg from its stuck position... He would die, and his baby would have precious little time for someone to find it before it too would perish.

 _My family is going to find me dead,_ he thought, trying with weak desperation to push the egg up his birth canal.

~*~

Gohan flew low between trees and bushes, senses strained for any signs, visual or otherwise, of the namekian. At first, he had called his mother to tell her to check the perimeter of forestry around the house, before checking the wasteland, woods, and now the green warrior’s  waterfall.

The lack of a ki signature was a growing cause for concern. By now, even Piccolo's weakened ki should've been noticeable, as it would be bolstered by the secondary one of his child. _He can't have gone far_ , he thought to himself. Gohan doubled his efforts, flying faster and nearer to the ground.

He almost missed the namek amidst the sea of green; Piccolo lay prone, a slime-like fluid seeping from his gasping mouth. Gohan's eyes bulged.

The teen swept down, heart leaping as he realised just how distended Piccolo's neck looked. "Oh shit," he hissed, gingerly scooping the much larger male into his arms. "Piccolo, what the hell?!" A cold sweat broke over his body as he raced back to their home. _Piccolo was having the baby_. Piccolo was having the baby, and judging from his struggling to breathe, he was not having a good time of it. "Piccolo," Gohan shook the namekian slightly. "Oh god. Oh my god."

"G-G-G'ha'," Piccolo wheezed weakly in his friend's arms, head lolling as best as the egg allowed against Gohan's shoulder. An involuntary contortion of his body, forceful and useless, racked the namekian's tortured form, doing nothing but causing him pain. He could not believe Gohan had found him! A cry that came out as nothing more than a weak gasp passed his lips. His eyes watered, agony rendering him incapable of thoughts other than " _save the baby first_." More of the fluid filled his mouth - it was surely supposed to be a lubricant, but was doing absolutely no good to him in his mouth! He needed it where his egg...where his egg... Piccolo felt heavy. So heavy.  His body convulsed, the egg shifted, but only a little. Not enough to take pressure off of his collapsed windpipe. "G....ha.....!"

"Shh, shhh," Gohan hushed his friend, mentor, _father-figure_ as he desperately flitted across the tops of trees, along fields. "Save your energy." But internally, he panicked. Was it already too late? What if the egg was stuck and could not move? Surely surgery was out of the equation at this point, but what…?!  "We won't be long." A growl escaped him as he touched down just outside the house, kicking the door open and carrying Piccolo through. " _Mom_!"

Chichi responded to the voice immediately, running out into the hall - and paling at the sight. Piccolo looked terrible, and the signs of his ongoing labour were clearer now more than ever.

"Take him into the living room, Gohan." The mothers voice was calm, although it sounded disembodied. "Put him on his hands and knees and rub his back. I'll be back soon."

Gohan felt his hackles rising. Didn't she know just how at risk Piccolo was of suffocating? Of losing the baby? Of _dying?_

"Mom, I don't think you get it! Look at him! We need to get him to a doctor, Bulma-"

" _Gohan_." The teen went silent; he had only heard that tone of voice once, and it was when she had been telling Goku to leave their home and not come back. Finality. He swallowed, and nodded, complying with his mother's orders...

 _The house.._. He realized, _he was in the house._ The living room. Gohan had placed him on his hands and knees, one hand supporting him, the other rubbing his back. Piccolo nearly collapsed as another contraction tore his neck - he definitely recognized the sensation of ripping muscle. The namekian wanted to curl up in the fetal position, to ignore the pain, and die quietly. Painfully, but quietly. At least all of this would be over! He retched, nothing coming up but more fluid from his aggravated throat. Piccolo's belabored body shook, and he tried again to vomit up the egg. It would not budge! And his body...it was growing increasingly weak. He could only get a fraction of the oxygen he needed through the largely constricted and crushed windpipe. He wanted Chichi. And Gohan to keep holding him...!

Chichi had given birth twice... Where was she?! His wife would know what to do...wouldn't she?

 

"Mommy...?" Goten whispered, poking his head around the doorframe as his mother passed, "what's wrong?" Gohan sounded so panicked, and his Daddy, Piccolo...well, those were not good noises at all!

Chichi stooped down to her youngest - _current_ youngest - placing her hands on his shoulders.

"Baby, I need you to be a good boy and stay in your room, okay?" She hated leaving Goten in the dark, but he would get excited if she told him the truth... "I'll tell you later, okay? I love you." She kissed his fluffy head, and made her way to the kitchen, pulling out the small kit she had made up in preparation for this event. Hauling it along to the living room, she knelt in front of her husband.

Gohan's eyes widened slightly as his mother began to open the bag, bringing out a nebuliser. His eyes flickered to her face. Her features were tight, but composed.

"Is he going to be okay?" Gohan knew his mother could not possibly know for sure, but he was too wound up with his own anxiety to think straight.

"Of course." Chichi's response was stern, as she lifted the nozzle to her husband's mouth. "Baby, I need you to breathe in on my count. This'll relax your throat muscles, help you breathe and get the egg out, okay?" Her other hand cupped Piccolo's clammy cheek, stroking. "One... two..." She squeezed.

Piccolo did his best to inhale when she counted; a strangled wheeze was the best he could manage. He was terrified. More scared than he had ever been before in his life. His heart desperately tried to pump blood around his body, but it too was weakened by the ordeal. The puff of medicine startled him, but he was too weak to jump back. At first, nothing happened, and he started to panic all over again, he was going to die and - the egg moved. Not a lot, but just enough to ease some of the pressure. He still could not draw normal breath, but least something had _happened_. That opening feeling had returned, and a fresh wave of fluid flowed from his mouth, a good deal of it ending up on his two caretakers. He retched, and flinched as the egg truly moved. Piccolo moved his head around, dropping it between his arms, lifting it, twisting...Another contraction pushed the egg a much larger margin than previous attempts up his throat, the bulge in his neck pushing the skin below the jaw out. Piccolo had not been capable of a closed mouth since his labor had kicked into full swing, but _this_?! He squeezed his eyes shut, gagging on the solid mass just below the back of his throat.

"Oh," Gohan inhaled sharply as he saw the prominent bulge under green skin, glistening with sweat. "Piccolo, I can see it." His voice carried more anticipation now than fear, eyes flicking to his mother and giving her a wavering smile. _She really_ did _know what to do!_

"Good, good," Chichi murmured, placing a cool cloth on her husband's forehead. She shifted her lap underneath his bent head, uncaring of the mess her clothes would be in. Her hands held fast to Piccolo's rigid arms, supporting some of his weight. "You're doing very well. I'm so proud of you." She kept murmuring encouragements, dabbing the sweat from his face. "Not long."

Piccolo retched again, unable to swallow the fluid that poured from his mouth, soaking Chichi's dress. He leaned forward, shaking arms supported somewhat by Chichi and Gohan. She was whispering encouragement. His stomach lurched, a powerful push rolling up his body. Piccolo's eyes snapped open, and he convulsed. His jaw cracked as it unhinged, and a sensation not unlike a burp coursed through him. The lavender tongue was depressed, jaw becoming completely dislocated as a solid mass began to slide up it, catching on his palate.

Chichi gritted her teeth, the egg was becoming caught, _again_. "Come on Piccolo, just a little bit more..." She could see the shiny, slimy surface of the egg within Piccolo's mouth. "You can do it Piccolo. I see it... I see the egg." Her fingers tightened on his skin. "It looks fine."

Piccolo gagged again, his egg pressing uncomfortably against the roof of his mouth. _Almost..._ He inhaled through his nose - at least it had almost completely cleared his airway! - and pushed. It caught, first on his palate, then on his teeth. Piccolo tried to cough, and the egg moved, but not after cutting the skin. His jaw opened impossibly wide, egg pressing down on the dislocated structure. He closed his eyes, and with one last coughing-hiccup, deposited the egg in Chichi's lap.

Piccolo stared at it for a moment, and his arms promptly buckled, unable to support him any longer. He wavered horribly, vision clouding with spots.

Chichi slid her hands over the egg's surface, checking for cracks of any kind.... none. She placed it carefully in Gohan's arms.

"Hold it a minute," she ordered, before tending to her husband.

Gohan gawped, mouth opening and closing repeatedly for a few moments; eyes fixated on the pale, smooth surface of the egg. _He... he did it!_ The teen looked up to congratulate his friend, but paled as he saw the glazed expression on the namekian’s face.

"Piccolo!" Gohan breathed, eyes widening as the namek seemed to tremble under his own weight. "Uh oh-" The teen blinked as the warm weight was pushed into his arms, watching as his mother began to shift Piccolo into a sitting position, his weight supported by her own strength. "I can feel its ki." A wide, delighted smile spread over the boys face. "You did it."

Piccolo slumped against Chichi, panting. His head lolled against her shoulder, mouth agape, antennae flat to his skull. He closed his eyes, breath coming in rapid, shallow gasps.

" _Chi...chi..._ " He whispered, eyes fluttering open to look at her. "I...want to...to _hold_..." He was too exhausted to do anything other than weakly moan whatever it was he wanted to say. His throat was sore, so sore, and raw. Even with all of the fluid he had been coughing up for the last two weeks, the egg had not slid through the birth canal with ease... _Why?_ A hand twitched for his egg, cradled carefully in Gohan's arms.

Chichi kissed the top of Piccolo's head, nodding to Gohan. Her husband looked so weak, so exhausted - however, it did not frighten her. He had pulled through. A warmth suffused her body, even as Gohan shifted; sliding the egg onto her lap.

"Here, honey." With care, she passed the egg to her husband, breath catching in her throat. Her eyes met Gohan's. "Could you make up some honey tea, please?" Her eldest nodded and stood, but not leaving before planting a kiss on the namekian's cheek.

"You did awesome," Gohan whispered, touching the egg again before grinning and ambling off to the kitchen for the tea... and hopefully some towels.

Piccolo looked down at the warm, smooth shelled-egg in his hands, fingers curling around it and tears building up behind his tired eyes. Long fingers curled gently around its surface, stroking the silky shell.

"I want the _baby_ ," he sobbed, hugging the egg to his chest as water began to flow from his eyes. "When does he _hatch_?" it was terribly unfair! All of that work for an egg? _An egg!_ Chichi had been handed her squirming, screaming son! And he an _egg_! Piccolo, still leaning heavily on Chichi, pressed his face against the shell and cried, chest and throat aching. His mind was a mess, and he cared very little in that moment that he was blubbering like a child. His eyes were bloodshot, tinged blue, and most of his face puffy from the forceful nature of the contractions which seemed to have burst several capillaries in his face. He hurt all over, but most of it was overpowered by the desire to hold a wriggling infant. "When does he hatch?" Piccolo repeated, "I want to see him..."

Chichi wrapped her arms around her distressed husband, murmuring softly in a long ear; which drooped from a combination of exhaustion, pain and misery. She knew it well.

"Dende said a week, maybe two weeks, Love." The new mother peppered kisses alongside his face, curling against the namek and holding him close. "He's still your baby, our baby. And it could be a shorter time, considering he's your son." It did not come as a great surprise to her, to see him in this state. Piccolo's expectations of birth would be similar to her own, considering he had grown up around humans, rather than other namekians.

Her chest ached; how disconcerting it must be, undergoing all that pain, just to have to wait longer. "Hey, we still need a name..." Chichi squeezed the brand new father gently. "And we still have a few other things to do... it won't be long. It won't feel long, I promise..."

He knew he was being silly. He had known that he would be birthing an egg, not a live child. Still... Piccolo leaned into her chest, nodding silently and still cradling and caressing the egg. It was smaller than he had expected, based on how badly it had hurt coming up. And certainly, it was smaller than the monstrosity out of which he had hatched. Then again, he was having a baby not a mutated revenge-child.

"I hope he's normal," Piccolo mumbled, pressing his face into the egg. It seemed to pulse with energy and life. He nuzzled it with his cheek, calming down as Chichi held him and reassured him that all was going to be alright, although tears still leaked from his now closed eyelids. A name... He had not even thought of that! Oh dear, a whole new set of emotions bubbled up and he barely stopped himself from weeping. _What was going on with him?_! "I don't know what to name him..." he moaned, breath hitching again.

"Don't worry sweetie," Chichi murmured, placing a hand upon one of Piccolo's, the other wrapped around him. "He's going to be beautiful... and tiny... and probably very loud, just like his mommy," she hummed, a smile quirking at her lips at the thought of a mini-Piccolo with her lungs. "Don't worry about a name. We'll bother with that once he hatches." She nuzzled her partner, breathing. "Oh Piccolo...our child. Our very own baby." She bit her lip. Don't cry. _Don't cry_. She was absolutely not going to cry. She did a bit, but she laughed too, a full, warm sound. "Look at us with our weird, wonderful little family. Isn't it amazing?"

Just then, Goten came wandering into the room, curiosity overpowering his mother's command to remain in his room.

"Daddy?" he asked, staring at the way his father was slumped against his mother, and holding a... Goten's eyes widened. "Izzat my little brother?" He approached, surprisingly calm, taking in his father's swollen face and haggard appearance. His nose crinkled. "Whazzat smell?" Goten crouched in front of the egg. "We should name him Steve."

Piccolo actually laughed then, a teary, hormonal, _I-just-gave-birth_ laugh, but a laugh all the same. "We'll think about it, half-pint," he croaked. The father looked down at his egg, slowly relaxing. His family was traditionally named after instruments - or rather, ancient Namekian words that sounded an awful lot like human names for instruments, anyway. He supposed that he would head in that direction. Piccolo sighed and held out a shaking hand for Goten, taking the child's hand and gently laying it on the egg.

"Steve." Chichi clamped a hand over her mouth, suppressing laughter. "Yeah baby, that's your little brother. You're going to be a big brother now." She reached out to stroke his fluffy mane. 

"And I am going to be the _ultra_ big brother, with the power to be _super_ bossy!" Gohan crooned as he walked into the room, carrying mugs of tea for Piccolo's raw throat. Goten's nose scrunched, his sweet, innocent little face creasing in thought.

"Doesn't mommy already have that?"

Chichi rolled her eyes, resting her forehead atop Piccolo's shoulder.

"I hope this kid appreciates how much of a wonderful, not-bossy mother it has more than you two," she muttered under Gohan's peals of laughter.

Goten looked truly confused, but only a moment longer as he reached up and kissed his father's tired face.

"I'll go make a list of good names," he said with a grin, and bolted from the living room, although he stopped after a moment, and turned around to give his mother a cheeky grin, "Mommy, Daddy, you smell bad right now."

Piccolo rolled his eyes as the child trundled away.

"I'm sure he will be far too polite to say that you're bossy aloud," he mumbled, resting his cheek against Chichi's head. He glanced Gohan, holding the tea. His ears twitched, and he hugged the egg, reluctant to release it. The idea of relinquishing hold on it for even a second was terrifying. "Umm..."

Chichi chuckled lightly, turning to view her husband. His face, typically a stoic mask, was weary; drawn with residual emotion, tear-streaked. He looked weak, pale, ill. She would not have wanted him any other way, because in that moment, he was completely himself. There was no front, only how he felt.

"Piccolo." Her voice was gentle. "You need to drink something. It's not good for your health, and I hate to say it, but you're going to have to start thinking of that a lot more now you're a father." She planted a kiss on his temple. "I know you don't want to let go, trust me, I've been there." She placed a hand on the smooth shell.

He hated it when she was right. And she almost always was, of course. Piccolo tentatively handed the egg to his wife, hands lingering on its silky surface for a moment before closing his eyes and releasing it. It settled neatly in Chichi's lap. He straightened, opening his eyes and gazing at the silvery shelled egg.

"Thank you, Gohan," Piccolo mumbled, voice still hoarse and throat aching from the event. _For everything,_ his eyes added, knowing that he would be dead by the waterfall had it not been for the teenager. He accepted the tea, and took a slow sip, wincing as the hot liquid washed over abraded tissue. He could not understand how, what with the sheer amount of thick, slimy mucous he produced on a daily basis, let alone the last few weeks, the egg had become so lodged in his throat. A hand reached up to touch the stretched and stressed skin and muscle, sore. _Perhaps they would have to ask Dende..._

Gohan grinned.

"No sweat. Good thing Mom called huh?" His eyes rested on his mother, soft as he took in her pale, tender face. "How did you know what to do with the, uh." He made a motion to indicate a ventilator, referencing the one she used on Piccolo during the birthing.

"I went to Bulma to stock up on painkillers." Her hands caressed the smooth shell. "And we were just talking about babies and epidurals and all that fun stuff, and she gave me it as a just in case thing." Her dark eyes flicked to her husband, then back down at their child. "I just mentioned that you had difficulty breathing sometimes." It was then Gohan was reminded where his intelligence came from. "I'm sorry for yelling earlier." Chichi smirked, "with you, my water broke in the middle of a traffic jam. And I was miles from a hospital. It's stressful."

Gohan laughed nervously.

"Women really are the superior sex," he added, turning to Piccolo again, placing an arm around him. "Need anything else?"

Piccolo shook his head slightly, taking another sip of the tea. He was exhausted! Actually... His cheeks could not quite flush due to the damage the delivery had caused, but...

"I want to go to bed," he said, slightly sheepish, hoping that Gohan would catch his drift and help him to the bedroom. He should. The two had a very close connection, after all. Piccolo glanced at his egg. He wanted to get it settled too, in the crib Goten and Gohan had used as babies. Right next to his side of the bed, within reach, so he could keep a hand on it at all times... His ears twitched, looking between his wife and dearest friend, holding the steaming mug of tea.

Gohan nodded, smiling lightly as he wound his arms around his mentor.

"Alright, let's go then. You coming Mom?" Chichi nodded, cradling the egg within her experienced arms, at ease. Gohan couldn't quite believe it. A little brother..."How many kids did you want when you were younger, Ma?" Gohan grinned. "Ever thought you'd end up with two half-saiyans and a namek?" Chichi laughed, a high, clear sound, as she followed the pair to her bedroom.

"Well I wanted about eight or nine, but three is enough of a handful," she hummed, idly rocking the egg, out of instinct more than anything else. "Beautiful handfuls, all of you."

"I think you're growing soft," he teased, carefully setting Piccolo down on the edge of the bed. He saluted. "Right well, I'll er, give you some alone time." He embraced the namekian, squeezing him gently. "I love you."

Piccolo rested his head on Gohan's shoulder, returning the embrace for a short moment.

"Love you too," he murmured; it was starting to hit home that he had almost died. The Namekian blinked several times, feeling emotions welling up again, tears threatening. _Damn, these hormones were out of control_. Piccolo shook his head, trying to calm himself down before he started crying again as Chichi set his egg down on his lap. He hugged it to his chest, inhaling its scent and closing his eyes.

Chichi shifted so she was sitting beside her husband, curling a small hand around a thick bicep. Her dark head touched his arm as she stared down at the creamy shell; the delicate layer between them and their child... theirs.

"You okay?" Chichi murmured, her arm wrapping across the broad expanse of his back. "It's been a long day for you honey." She touched the egg, grazing her small fingers across it.

Piccolo nodded, relaxing against her side as her arm slipped around him. He held the egg tenderly, arms wrapped around it as if it were already the infant he so desperately desired to cradle…

"I panicked," Piccolo whispered, voice raspy. He kept his eyes downcast, watching his egg, one hand stroking it whilst the other held it steady. He was ashamed. He had bolted, going against a plan to which he himself had agreed... The pain his idiocy had almost caused his family blitzed through his mind. Had Gohan arrived but five minutes later, he would likely have been dead. And, he realized, he would not have been able to be wished back. Child birth was a natural cause... He wondered if his baby would have survived, had it not... Long claws gently trailed along the smooth shell. He thought that his child would have survived, providing Gohan had found the egg before an animal did... Still. Piccolo shuddered, and drew the egg closer to his warmth.

“Yes," she said quietly, her grip tightening on him as she thought of what may have happened should she had hesitated in contacting her son. It was just as well her instincts were sharp; she had a knack of expecting a situation before it arose. "But you're both here, and safe. That's all that really matters." Chichi planted a few kisses on her husband's cheek. "I'm going to take good care of you over the next little while... just _let_ me, alright?" Her voice held a note of pleading. "It's the least I can do."

Piccolo's long ears flicked and he pushed against her lips.

"I am sorry for causing you worry," he murmured. The namekian blinked a few times, exhausted. He wanted to lie down. Did his egg need to be next to him at all times? Kept warm? Would a blanket be enough? He was loath to set it down... Piccolo looked warily at the crib. Of course, he had agreed to have the baby resting in the crib... But it was a egg, and that had not truly dawned upon him until now..."I will not put up a fight if you need to dote on me," Piccolo murmured, closing his eyes and resting his chin on the egg. "What do we name...?" He frowned, and fell silent, looking contemplatively at the wall...

"And dote on you I will," Chichi sighed, dotting a few more kisses over his face. "Dende said the egg would be fine as long it was kept at room temperature. Although, you could keep it between us tonight if you wanted..." She bit her lip, running a hand along its smooth surface. "Let's sleep on it, hm? You're exhausted." Chichi smiled tiredly, and proceeded to get up, stretching before removing her soiled clothes.

Piccolo nodded slowly, agreeing with her statement. There was nothing to argue. He was absolutely spent. The namekian looked appreciatively at his wife.

"Thank you," he murmured, and gently rested his egg down on the mattress. His clothes were destroyed. He struggled out of his shirt and trousers, opening his small bureau and pulling out a pair of soft flannel pants. Piccolo had to sit back down to get the new items on his body. He did not replace his shirt, wanting to hold his egg right next to his skin.  "Thank you, for not panicking," he murmured, as Chichi returned to the bed.

Chichi climbed in beside the pair, pulling her hair free from its loose bun.

"Panic doesn't help anyone, especially not during a birth." It was only through her own experience that she didn't panic, nor end up killing someone many weeks prior to the event. She leaned over, giving Piccolo a gentle kiss on the mouth, then his forehead, before slumping back to her own side. Her mouth opened in a mighty yawn. "Jeez, I can't wait til this little guy is out. Think it'll have my lungs? Your poor ears will suffer."

Piccolo chuckled and cuddled up next to the egg.

"My ears will manage." He reached out a hand to stroke her hair, smiling tiredly. "I love you," Piccolo murmured, before drifting off to a dreamless sleep…

**~*~**

Tension had only arisen in the Son-Daimao household ever since the new addition to the odd family had arrived. Oh, it wasn't because it had _arrived_ , per se, more that it had arrived and had failed to hatch, thus far.

It did not concern Chichi too much - Dende had said it could've taken up to a fortnight, and Chichi, experienced in the art of waiting as she was, made preparations for the upcoming event. And she would have been perfectly content doing that, if it were not for Piccolo practically clawing at the walls in his anxiety for the kid to be out already.

"It's only been a week, Piccolo," Chichi sighed as she passed her husband and egg, carrying a load of laundered linen. She sat on the edge of the bed, and began to fold. "I don't think there's anything to worry about. We've already established with Dende that the baby has a good ki."

Piccolo growled quietly. It was by no means a threat, more of an expression of his anxiety. The namekian had the egg on his lap, arms wrapped around it, hands stroking the silky smooth shell. His throat had yet to return to normal, but he had refrained from saying anything to anyone.

"I know," he muttered, dark eyes flicking up to his wife's face for a moment before returning to his egg. He had a feeling about today, maybe tomorrow, and was loath to relinquish hold of it for so much as thirty seconds. Throughout the last few hours, the egg had done _something_ that made the stir crazy father lean forward, ears pricked with interest and excitement. Nothing had happened as of yet. And it was driving him crazy. He told himself he was fine, just overly anxious...but it did little to quell his nerves…

Chichi smiled to herself, shaking her head. It was rather sweet that Piccolo was so eager to see his child, but the way he clung to the egg bordered on obsession.

"I bought some cough syrup for you at the store," she said, pulling out the small, dark bottle and pouring out a capful of the viscous liquid. She held it out for him. "Are you thinking along the lines of instrument themes for names?"

Piccolo accepted the medicine; it was no miracle worker but it helped to soothe the sore flesh somewhat. The muscle torn while coughing up the egg was mostly healed, and did not bother him very much. The almost-father - for he had a difficult time thinking of himself as his child's father until he could see his baby's face - stuck out his tongue as the medicine slid down his throat.

" _Yegh_ ," he muttered, but his throat felt a little less inflamed almost immediately. He looked up at his wife, a small smile curling his lips, and nodded, before looking down again at his egg, hands gently caressing the warm, smooth surface.

"Hmmm..." Chichi knelt on the bed, kissing the top of Piccolo's head. "Any in particular? You know, we don't have to think of English instrument names..."

She had a few in mind already, but she would keep them to herself until the baby was out. It would only get Piccolo thinking more about the kid - a small tap sounded from inside the egg. Chichi's breathing hitched, her fingers twisting in Piccolo's shirt. "Oh!"

Piccolo's long ears perked, and he leaned in slightly.

"It's the fifth time today," he murmured, heartbeat jumping up. The Namekian place his palm over the spot from where the sound had emanated, feeling for any changes in the smooth surface. There were none. He sighed and sat back. "I like Cello, but only because it has a 'c' sound." Piccolo leaned against Chichi. "I had asked Gohan to look up other flute-names." He snorted. "First thing he told me was that he ‘had dibs on Pan.'" He shook his head.

Chichi giggled as it dawned on her why Gohan would want the name Pan. "He's such... a goddamn nerd. It's a double pun. Pan as in pan bread, which makes it a food related name like his; and Pan as in a pan flute, a musical name like yours..." Her head met his shoulder. "I can't believe him.”

"Triple." Piccolo smirked, "you throw frying pans at unsavory characters.

She shook her head and mused over names.

"Bansuri? That's an Indian flute... and Suri for short. That's all I got."

The tapping started up again, and Chichi could not help but lean forward slightly, attentively.

His eyes lit up at Chichi's suggestion.

" _Bansuri._.. Suri..." It was a good name! " _Son-Daimao Bansuri_..." His lips curled in a smile. That was it, his baby's name! He was about to officially proclaim it, when the egg in his lap tapped again - multiple times. His eyes widened, and a hand snatched Chichi's. "It's only been one..." He had no idea that he was shaking. "Gohan," he whispered, searching for the boy's ki, forgetting entirely that it was a school day and the boy was miles away. A mental thread shot across their connection, _It’s time!_ and he looked back at Chichi, eyes wide, face pale, breath hitching in excitement.

"Gohan's at-" she started, stopping as took in the look of anticipation on Piccolo's face. Dark eyes flickered back down to the egg, before looking at the hand clasping hers. His large, powerful one trembled like a leaf. Her phone buzzed, making her flinch as she scrabbled for it; peering at the lit screen. "Gohan's coming," she said, tossing the thing to the side; eyes widening as an insistent tap split a hairline cracking across the smooth surface of the egg. "Piccolo!"

He nearly dropped the egg as the crack spread across the surface, jumping at first real signs of life from within the shell. Piccolo traced the fracture with a gentle finger, his heart hammering in his chest.

"We should go outside," he whispered, the sun was shining, temperatures pleasantly warm...

 _Namekians were born in the sun,_ he thought, unsure of how he had this knowledge. A strange calm washed over him. After a week of obsessing over the thing, he felt strangely detached. It would be some time before the the little tyke was able to free itself from the confines of the sturdy shell... Piccolo still held Chichi's hand, but the shaking had decreased significantly, his breath almost normal, his pulse dropping back to just above resting. Taking the egg carefully up in one strong arm, and pulling Chichi along with him, Piccolo swept from the room, down the hall, down stairs, and out into the garden, right under the cherry tree. He froze, stiff as a board for a moment, and sat promptly sat down, the egg in his lap.

Chichi blinked, allowing herself to be dragged along. _Why outside?_ She distantly recalled some spiel Gohan gave her about namekians and photosynthesis... and then there was the fact Namek had three suns… A smile twitched at her lips. Perhaps it was his parental instincts. Besides, this was as nice a place as any for the child to be revealed to the world… Just as she sat down, she heard a scrabbling and a crash, the sound of thundering footsteps following soon after. Gohan burst out into the garden, red-cheeked and breathless.

"I came home as soon as I could! Am I too late?" He stopped still, gathering his senses, before flopping down in front of them, schoolbag and all. "Why - are we - out here?"

Piccolo smiled as Gohan approached, shaking his head slightly.

"We have time," he murmured, indicating a second and third crack spreading across the shell. His ears flicked, "I wanted to be outside." That was all the answer the boy needed, surely. The green face relaxed further as Gohan sat down next to him. "I am sorry to pull you out of school," Piccolo touched Gohan's oscillating shoulders. "Thank you for coming."

The egg rocked, wobbling slightly in his lap. Piccolo looked sharply back down at the cracking shell, eyes wide and breath catching in his throat. Another, thicker fracture spread from a central point, creating a spider web effect across the shell. It shifted in his lap.

Gohan made a soft sound as the egg seemed to squirm, shuffling closer to take a better look. His eyes shifted to his mother, who was chewing one of her cuffs in anticipation.

"It's finally happening," he breathed, rocking forward on his knees. A little brother, how exciting! He grinned. "Can I be the godfather?"

"You just want to call yourself the Godfather, because of that stupid film," Chichi muttered, but her hand shot out to grab her son's, tears shimmering in her eyes. She would not let them fall, though, not yet.

A tiny hand broke through, fingers twitching. Chichi gawped. "Look at it! Look!" She clutched Gohan with an iron grip, breathing shallow.

Piccolo felt tears prickling in his eyes at the sight of the little hand poking through the shell, so perfect and green and covered in slime. It took all of his willpower to not reach out and help his baby to break out of the confines of the eggshell. The wiggling hand thrashed about, cracking more of the shell. It was joined by the opposite foot. Piccolo bit his lip, it would not be long now... He watched anxiously, tuning out the world around him as more and more cracks appeared in the egg...

The foot was tiny, perfect in every little detail - from the tiny slithers of nail at each toe to the smooth green skin underneath the purplish ooze. Chichi pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle the soft sobs threatening to escape her as another hand burst through.

A child.... a child of their own. The culmination of their love, years together.

A soft, breathy cry cut through the tense air, hands flailing for its parent directly above it.

Piccolo bit his lip as the shell and membrane tore away from his baby's naked little body with the force of flailing limbs. He stared down at the wailing baby for less than a second longer, before scooping the tiny warm body, careful to support the head as he nestled his child against his chest. Ignoring the goop from the egg, Piccolo shushed the baby, his face open and full of emotion.

" _Shhh_ ," he murmured, a gentle hand tenderly wiping away slime from the baby's face. "Son-Daimao Bansuri," Piccolo murmured, eyes soft as the babe quieted, " _my little Suri_..." He waved a hand, materializing a soft fluffy cloth to finish cleaning the goop from the little baby. The warrior was shockingly gentle, drying Suri's little body with a tenderness few had seen from the namekian. He looked up, mouth open, eyes wide and more than a little watery as he gazed between his wife and his best friend. Piccolo blinked several times, speechless, until "he's so small." Dropping his face back to the green infant, he closed his eyes, adjusting his hold on his baby. "I'm a Daddy..." It came out as a sob, the namekian curling around the tiny sprout. Of course, Gohan and Goten were his sons, but this...

**  
** _Piccolo had not realized he was capable of such strong emotions, even though he loved Chichi and the boys more than he could describe, he would never have imagined himself sobbing and nuzzling against such a tiny little thing..._

**Author's Note:**

> Some reasonings for Piccolo's troubles will be given in a later story


End file.
